Nonetheless,
it was a bottle of thick, fluid essence that you left in this very space
I call home.
Your resemblance was much abstract,
you were the moon at night,
the sun when I greeted Good Morning,
a leverage between two ends,
a guidance to idealism
and an embrace of history.
And I know, deep down,
this land is where my roots were seated,
and that,
nothing could stop me from soaring high.
Happy New Year.
Ching Chong Ching Chong!
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